Mendacious
by loveconquersallxxx
Summary: AU Pirates spin-off. "Craig, here, will have the same reputation if he's not careful."
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Mendacious

**Summary: **AU Pirates spin-off. "Craig, here, will have the same reputation if he's not careful."

**Disclaimer:** If I owned _The Mentalist_, do you really think I would sit around writing fan fiction about it?

**Rating: **T

So, you might remember a little story called _Chasing the Storm _by iloveplotbunnies. Well, she and I plotted that story out together. Throughout, we always said how interesting O'Laughlin's point of view would have been. What his reasoning was for the actions that took place and the answers to some of the questions when it concerns Lisbon and her kidnapping.

iloveplotbunnies and I have discussed this idea and she has agreed, because O'Laughlin was my creation, that I could write the spin-off. (Look, she is giving you guys a sequel and is working on another _huge_ story; give her a break).

_Before_ reading this story, you should read _Chasing the Storm_, in order to understand what is going on. Link:  s/7919736/1/Chasing_the_Storm

Anyway, let's have some fun, shall we?

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_One year ago…_

He drummed his fingers against the splintered, wooden countertop of the nameless, underground speakeasy. Manse Island never advertised places like this. Only those who looked for them, found them. The speakeasy he sat in smelled of dried urine, whiskey, and cheap sex. He also discerned a hint of vomit in the air, but that could have been from the adjacent room that held the toilets. He had no idea how long he had been sitting at the bar. It could have been days for all he knew, but ever since he had sat down at the bar stool and took his first shot of whiskey, his feelings remained steady. He was angry. Angry at the bitch who had, single-handedly, ruined his engagement to the Governor's beautiful daughter, Grace Van Pelt Bertram.

It had been an arranged marriage, set-up by the Governor. He had claimed that a rowdy, party-obsessed woman was influencing his daughter to leave the lifestyle and that if he were to marry Grace; he would be able to persuade her to do the "right" thing and get married. Although, Craig knew what Governor Bertram had really wanted though - his daughter to stay loyal to him. Craig knew that the real reason for the arrangement hadn't been because of his personality or good heart, but because he had been loyal and supportive of Grace's father for years. Governor Bertram promised him a good part of the family money and various other rewards if he were to go through with the marriage.

Before the Governor had proposed the idea, Craig had dreamt of marrying a woman for love and not for money. It wasn't that he never had his share of women, but he had just never found the right girl. Sure, he had girls, but no one he connected with. He had carried on those beliefs even when Bertram had proposed the idea to him and he would have rejected the offer, if it hadn't been for the fact that he could profit from it. He had felt terrible tricking Grace like that, when he had started to court her, but as time went on and they had spent more time together he started to care for her and, he could say now, he had fallen in love with her.

Now though, here he was, in a dirty, disease filled bar with nothing, but the shot glass in his hand and anger in his heart because that bitch had decided she needed to get laid. He had never been angry with the Governor for what had happened. The Governor had explained that his son, James, had made an inadequate decision by falling for that harlot.

Bertram had said, _"I'm sorry, Craig. I should have known that Miss Saffron would try something like this. She always did like to ruin a good thing."_

He shook his head at the memory of those words. He had understood that Bertram was not able to control a woman who had not been his daughter. He had understood that a wedding would make the town immediately suspicious and Bertram never wanted the scandal to reach outside the walls of his home. Bertram had told him to leave the island, if only for a few months, just so everything could go back to normal and he had. He had come to Manse Island, in hopes of finding Kristina Saffron. He had wanted to find and kill her for ruining his life, but when he had arrived, the locals said there had been no sign of her for weeks.

There had been rumors around the town that she had run off with another man, she had killed herself, or that her family had locked her away in an asylum. Either way, there had been no sign of her, but he had stayed on the island because, besides it being a beautiful place, he had nowhere else to go. He had no family, no real friends to speak of, and no home. He had been staying at the cheapest hotel for almost a month now and nothing had changed. At the beginning, he had spent a lot of his time thinking about Grace and how much he wished he hadn't left her. Then, as time went on, he found himself not thinking so much about Grace, but about how he could move on. Sure, he still wanted to take revenge on Kristina Saffron, but he was not going to waste his life on a quest for revenge. If he ever found her, he would take the opportunity to do what he had been wanting, but until that day, he had to move on and find something new.

It wasn't until, about a week ago, that he had found the speakeasy and had made himself at home on his current bar stool. It was sad to think that the only friend he had made since he had arrived on the island was the bartender and he had always been told to _not_ be on a first name basis with them. The bartender's name, despite the advice he had been given, was Steve.

There weren't many patrons in the bar and he, basically, had the counter to himself. There was a group of degenerates who sat in the back, but it seemed that every time Craig stepped into the establishment, they were always there. He wondered if they ever left at all.

_Probably not,_ he thought emotionless. He sighed, loudly, and mentally prepared himself to leave the bar and back to his hotel room to put food into his rumbling stomach. He couldn't remember the last time he had a decent meal and he had been craving a steak all day. He shook his head, which brought him out of his thoughts and into reality, and found himself looking at the newest patron. She had just stepped into the bar. His eyes widened and lips parted slightly at the sight of her. The woman wasn't tall; he was sure that he had a good foot on her. He looked her up and down. She had long, dark hair that curled at the bottom and rested just below her shoulders. She was petite, but he immediately noticed the muscle in her legs and upper arms. She had exquisite facial features and as she got closer he noticed her blazing, emerald eyes. He swore that if it had just been darker inside the speakeasy they would have lit up the room.

She stepped over to the counter, head held high in confidence and poise, and he watched her muscles flex in her leggings as she walked over. He was suddenly frightened to even try to talk to her. His eyes scanned over the rest of her. He noticed the sword that sat in her holster and it rested on her tiny hips. She wore a green, buttoned-up, v-neck t-shirt that loosely fitted around her midsection. His eyes went up further and hit her chest. She was small, but they looked firm and were big enough so he could…

His thoughts on her flawless figure was interrupted by the sound of her angelic voice. It filled his ears and it made him internally smile. He wouldn't want her that he thought she was an exquisite woman and he was sure that she had heard all of this several times before. He knew that a smile told a lot about what a person was thinking and this woman was _not_ an idiot.

"Rum, please." He heard her request to the bartender as she took a seat a stool away from him. He watched her put her head into one of her hands as she waited for her order. Her face, now that she was closer to him, was tense and tired. She looked as if she had just gone twenty rounds with her worst enemy. He had the urge to comfort her, but he didn't even know her and he wouldn't want to sound intrusive. He shifted his focus from her to the bar glass in his hand. He needed to forget about her because there was no way a woman like _that_ did not have someone waiting for her when she returned home. Physically, he thought, she was the woman of his dreams, but he knew there was more to a person than just what they looked like physically.

"Miss Lisbon," he heard the bartender say, "you're back. Earlier this time." She had been here before? A dark thought crossed his mind. What if she was a prostitute? That would kill him that he had fallen for a woman who went for anything just to make a profit. His hand went through his hair and he tried to push the thought out of his head.

He heard her voice again. "Well if you have met my Captain, you would understand why I come here." He felt his ears perk up at the sound of "captain." She had been a part of a crew? No wonder she had a sword, it explained a lot about her, but that still didn't mean she was a part of that crew because the men didn't want sex from her.

"Oh Miss Lisbon," he heard the bartender explain, "your Captain is no stranger to the men who wander into my bar. I've heard of him." The bartender's voice sounded strained and judgmental. He wondered who they were talking about, because he had certainly never heard of this "captain" before. If he had, he was sure that he could have agreed with them, given that he wanted to take part of the conversation.

The bartender's voice filled the room again. "To be honest, I'm surprised he's not here with you. He has the reputation, from what I've heard." He heard her chuckle at the response that the bartender had given her. He watched her nod her head in agreement with his statement.

Steve hadn't let her respond when he spoke to her again. "Craig, here, will have the same reputation if he's not careful." He glared at the bartender; he knew the conversation they were having about this woman's Captain wasn't a positive one and would not want to be put into the same group as this guy. If this woman was coming into this speakeasy almost every day, then the man that they were talking about had to be a real pain in the ass. His heart hurt for her because he knew she deserved better, even though he didn't even know her.

He heard the bartender continue to explain his underhanded insult. "Other than your Captain, Miss Lisbon, Craig knows how to control himself and his mouth." He felt her eyes staring at the side of his head. He slowly turned his head to face her and he only saw her smile and it was beautiful. All he could do in response to her, however, was nod and briefly wave. He watched as the bartender went into the backroom and he looked at the woman again.

"Sorry about that," he apologized, "he loves to put me on the spot. Especially when women come around." She downed her glass of rum and stared at him, expressionless. He figured that she was either figuring out what to make of him and if he was worth her time or she was just going to scoff and walk out of the speakeasy, to never be seen again. She would forget all about him and he would stay on his bar stool and drown in his sorrows.

"You come here a lot, huh?" She hadn't even acknowledged his apology and had gone straight for the jugular. This woman played no games and he noticed that when she had asked the question, she had stared straight into his eyes. The intensity of her gaze made him want to look away, but he couldn't. He could only focus on her beauty.

He looked up at the warped ceiling and searched for an answer to a fairly simple question. He had never been this nervous to talk to a woman before, but he knew she was different. He had to give her the right answer or he had no shot with her. "I only found this place a couple of days ago. You look like you need the drinks more than I do." He gave her a small smile and hoped she would at least chuckle at the joke he had just made. She continued to stare, but he noticed that her shoulders relaxed and she started to slouch. He guessed that she had been on the defense because she had not known who he was, but he guessed that he had not hit on her immediately made her relax.

"My Captain," she explained still with a smile, "is someone who, after a day, you need several drinks." He slid his filled glass over to her and nodded at it. Her face gave him the impression that he had confused her.

"Take it," he offered. She thanked him with a grin and she shook her head. He almost regretted handing her the drink because, now, he had nothing to fiddle with as he talked to her. He could hear his heartbeat race in his ears and the sweat pooling at the base of his neck. He had never had this reaction to a woman before. Usually, he was confident with them and could easily charm them, but she had been different. She was somebody he knew he had to impress before he could ever try anything with her. He had to gain her trust.

"What's your story?" He heard her ask him, but she had more to add. "People who come to bars often have a story." Her question intrigued him, but he wouldn't even know where to begin in response. It was a long story and not one you told in a speakeasy in the middle of the afternoon. He knew that if he wanted her trust, she would have to gain his before he could ever tell her what had happened to him. She seemed like the kind of woman you could spill your secrets to. She would listen to them and then lock them away for no one else to ever get a hold of. Unless, he thought, she was spiteful.

"I would find it odd if I were to just spill my secrets to a complete stranger." He kept his eyes focused on her and watched as she shifted in her seat and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes told him that she agreed as they darted left and right.

"What's your name?" He asked hopeful that she would give him the courtesy of a name. He hadn't been entranced and intimidated by her for _this_ long to not get her name. He had to know for when he ever had the urge to find her again when she left him.

She narrowed her eyes on him. He suspected she found him suspicious for asking the question, but it was just out of common courtesy that he had asked her. Plus, if he ever found himself needing to see her, he could ask around and find her in hopes that she would remember him.

"Teresa Lisbon." She responded in haste. He admired her name in his thoughts; he liked it and it suited her well. He wondered why the bartender called her "Lisbon" though, when "Teresa" seemed much more polite. This woman was not someone you treated like one of the guys, but someone who deserved the utmost respect. She was not an object, but a woman and deserved to be treated as such. The more he thought about how Steve had treated Teresa, the more he wanted to choke the man for being so rude to her.

He acknowledged her. "Nice to meet you, Teresa. I'm Craig. Craig O'Laughlin." He shifted on the bar stool to face her. He felt it rude to not be facing such a beautiful woman; she deserved his undivided attention. "You don't seem like the kind of woman who would want to be on an island like this. What brings you here?" He tilted his head and gave her an inquisitive look, but waited patiently for an answer. He watched as she sighed and put her hand to her head. Had he upset her? Had he asked too much too soon? He hadn't wanted to alienate her or make her feel uncomfortable. He immediately regretted ever asking her the question.

She rose from her bar stool and sat in the adjacent seat. Her body language had told him that she had been frustrated by the question, but her sudden movement next to him said that she wanted it to continue. _Gosh,_ he thought, _she's a complicated woman to figure out._ She twirled at a lock of her hair. "The reason for my being here is complicated and is not reasoning I'm to divulge to strangers."

He looked down at the empty countertop. He understood where she was coming from; they had just met. He couldn't expect her to tell him everything at first meeting. That would be expecting too much out of her. He heard her voice in his ears again. "What do you do around here? You don't look like you fit in with this kind of crowd much either." He shook his head. They were both asking questions that weren't proper to answer at first meeting, but he had wanted to tell her _something._ Something that would spark her interest and make her want to stick around. He had gotten this far with her and he wanted to see how far he could take this. He would have offered her to go out to eat, but it wasn't like he could afford any of the dining areas on Manse Island. He was barely affording the hotel room he had been staying at for the last month. He was slowly coming to a realization that he wasn't good enough for her.

He let out a heavy breath. He felt the strain of the stress pushing down on his neck. In order to try to relieve the pressure he put his hand to the back of his neck and rubbed gently. It helped for a few seconds, but once he put his hand back atop the counter the pressure reemerged. "I'm a loner. I go from place to place. I'm not one to stay somewhere permanently." He glanced into her eyes again. He saw compassion and understanding, which was not something he received often. Growing up, he had only had his father. He had loved his father, but the man had never shown any compassion. Craig remembered that he had to earn his father's love; it hadn't been handed to him. However, what he saw in Teresa was an immediate interest in understanding. She wanted to learn about you to see if she could help you. He knew that if she hadn't been interested she wouldn't have made herself comfortable next to him. She wouldn't have asked him anything. She would've just brushed him off after her glass of rum and left the bar. "I've never belonged anywhere," he finished.

He hadn't been trying to impress her or sound melodramatic. It was true. He had left home because he never wanted to become like his father. They still wrote on occasion, but all he read from those letters was how he should have made something of himself and to take over the family business. Then, the Bertram family had sent him away because of standing and a scandal. He always was the outsider.

He tilted his head towards her, again, and stared at her – unblinking. He noticed that they both continued to hold the stare for what seemed like hours. He wished he knew what she was thinking, knew if she was trying to find some way to help him or if she was finding an easy way out of the conversation.

"Do you have any experience with a sword?" His eyes still focused on her, he narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth slightly. The question had come out of left field and puzzled him, but all he could do was nod at her in confirmation. When he had been an adolescent, he was taught by his father and now, knew he could hold his own, but he had been out of practice for years.

Her face, he observed, lit up for a moment and he watched her as she rose from the adjacent bar stool. She walked around the stool and turned to him. "I think I have a solution for you." He turned his head over his shoulder and continued with his puzzled expression.

He finally asked, "What do you mean?" His curiosity was slowly building and he wondered what she had been up to. He wasn't sure what she had meant by "solution," he hadn't had a problem. Unless, she thought she could fix his lack of a permanent home, but he doubted it.

She waved her hand for him to follow her. "I have someone I want you to meet. I'll explain to you on the way." He watched as she started out towards the door and into the light of the mid-afternoon. He asked no questions and followed her outside.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Mendacious

**Disclaimer: **I'm not the government. I couldn't own or try to own _The Mentalist. _If I did, I'd be scared if I were you.

Thank you so much **iloveplotbunnies** and **Frogster** for the reviews! They were appreciated and responded to.

Yes, I know that this chapter is long overdue, but unfortunately, things called school (starting September 5th) and work continue to get in my way. I am going to try to work out a way to update _each_ week, but no guarantees as of yet. However, appreciate this new chapter while you have it and I will try to get my ass into gear and finish C3 soon! Have fun with O'Laughlin!

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The high, afternoon sun hit at his back and he walked next to Teresa at a steady pace. She had explained to him about how her crew had recently lost a crew member and they were searching for someone to replace them. Teresa hadn't given any names, but that hadn't meant that he wasn't intrigued.

They continued to walk along the path, through the park, when he opened his mouth to ask. "Why me?" He had to know. What made him a good option for the crew? What potential had he shown? It wasn't like he had proven his worth to her; when she had walked in, he was sitting at a bar. He knew drinking wasn't a pastime that gave a man a lot of prestige or respect. In fact, it was a habit most looked down upon, even though the men who said that, do it themselves.

He noticed that Teresa, occasionally when she explained something, talked with her hands. He observed as she motioned to answer him. "You said you were a loner, didn't you? That you needed to, I guess, belong somewhere?" She quickly turned her head to glance at him, and then shifted her focus back on the path ahead of her. He noticed that she walked with more of a jaunt in her step then when she had first walked into the bar. Back at the bar, she had a heavier step and there was a look of exhaustion on her features, as if she had searched for something or someone all day. He figured her lightning footsteps and brisk pace meant that she could be satisfied with herself and that she had accomplished something. Although, he had this feeling that she was hoping for some praise by her, apparently, tough-to-please Captain. "I'm giving you that opportunity. You could at least be thankful."

His eyes widened at the tone in her voice. No woman had ever spoken to him like that before. Granted, most of the time, they weren't speaking when he was with them; he smirked slightly. He knew that he hadn't known Teresa long, but he never expected her to have such a fierce attitude. He assumed that after working on a high-demand crew that was how you became, but he expected that more out of a man than a woman. Then again, he never expected to hear that a woman was willingly aboard a pirate ship or any ship for that matter. Working on a ship was man's work, and he had always been told that a woman's place was in the home.

He continued on the paved path, slightly behind Teresa, when he noticed the vessel they were walking towards. His mouth gapped slightly at the sight of it and watched as Teresa went up the ramp and on board. He ran to catch up with her. The ship was massive, bigger than any of Bertram's ships; it had two white sails and an expansive upper deck. There were no scuff marks on the wood and it was kept clean. He noticed the various crew members as they scurried around deck doing various duties. He was in awe of the ship and how beautifully crafted it was and he wondered how Teresa and the crew could have afforded a ship so large. While atop the deck, he noticed how the ship, even docked, hadn't rocked too much due to the size.

He must have been in complete awe because he felt a pair of fingers tapping him on the shoulder. He turned his head slightly to face whomever was doing that; it was Teresa. She smiled gently and spoke out. "Welcome to the Scarlet Oasis." He chuckled lowly. The way she had said that sounded as if he were getting greeted at a luxurious hotel back on Manse Island, but he got the message. However, he remained silent; he had no words. He saw her motion for him to follow her and did so.

"Where are we going?" He whispered afraid that if he spoke any louder he could echo out on the island. He also had gotten several passing glances from the unknown crew members and decided to stay quiet around them until he could be introduced formally. He had noticed that one man, particularly tall, had been staring suspiciously at him, while the other one, who stood by his side, remained stoic. He assumed that they were the captain and first mate, but he couldn't be sure because Teresa wasn't headed in their direction, but down below the ship.

He heard her even-leveled voice. "We're going to meet my Captain." His heart started to pound in his chest. Craig had already heard a little about Teresa's captain, but not too much. He had only heard what the bartender, Steve, had said and it hadn't been pleasant. However, he knew he couldn't judge a man based on his need to drink. He would be a hypocrite if he did so because he had done his fair share of drinking as well. He figured that Steve had been over exaggerating when he was telling Teresa his outlandish opinion about her Captain.

He followed Teresa past the crew's quarters and down the hall and by, what he assumed was the first mate's bedroom. The closed door was right outside of the crew's quarters and from what he had known of pirate ships, the first mate had many responsibilities that dealt directly with the crew. As he thought about it, he hadn't met the first mate either. He guessed, by the quickness in Teresa's step, that he would be meeting both and they had to get the Captain's quarters before one of them went out on duty atop the main deck.

As he passed the crew's quarters by, he noticed that it was simple in design. There were about twenty or so cots lined up in the middle of the expansive lower deck all with the same sheets. He didn't think that twenty cots would be enough, but he guessed that not everybody slept at the same time. Especially since a ship needed constant overseeing and supervision. He tried to observe everything quickly, as Teresa had a lead on him. He thought that the captain and first mate's bedrooms would be adjacent from one another, but that was not the case. Teresa had taken several, lengthy corridors until she stopped at a pair of double-doors.

He pressed his lips together and inhaled a long breath. He observed her as she rapped on the door and then heard a voice welcoming inside the room. He stepped inside with Teresa and stayed behind her. She had a standing on this ship, he didn't and he had to show respect to both Teresa and the Captain. He stood near the center of the room, with her, as he took notice of the two men. Both were about the same height, the brunette slightly taller than the blonde. They both lifted their heads and stared at him and Teresa. The brunette man quickly averted his eyes away from him and stared straight at Teresa and her figure.

"Teresa, have you been working out? Your legs look quite toned." Craig tried not to react to the man who was openly hitting on Teresa; without much care of who was in the room. He watched Teresa as she reached for her sword that he assumed she would take to the man's neck.

"Walter," she growled, her hand resting on her sword, "have you ever considered the possibility that I work out so I can defend myself from _you_ and your lower half?" He chuckled lowly at her question and continued to observe the situation with some silent amusement. He was appreciative that he hadn't been forward with Teresa when he had first met her. She would have beheaded him without much remorse. Although, he was not too appreciative of what the man was suggesting to her. He had always thought of himself as a gentleman, but this guy was just full of himself and poorly dressed. The fact that this man willingly walked around in a rhinestone-covered vest made him grimace. The use of her first name or not, the man was still obnoxious and self-centered.

"If you just gave me and my lower half a chance Teresa, I'm sure that between the two of us," he shook his head at the man's poor attempts to flirt. The odds were not in this man's favor, "we could make you happy." He saw Teresa slowly start to unsheathe her sword from its holster. Craig heard another voice and it interrupted Teresa's action to stab the brunette in the chest. Everyone turned to face the blonde who, he noticed, had a huge grin plastered across his face; most likely, due to the conversation that the other man was having with Teresa.

"Walter," the man warned, "didn't you and Rigsby have some business to take care of?" He noticed that the tone in the man's voice was one that was trying to get a point across. The man, whose name was apparently Walter, nodded in the other one's direction and started to leave the room, but not before he gave Teresa a suggestive smile. Craig, however, wasn't too sure if he wanted to rip out the man's lungs or just laugh at him for his absurdity. He knew that Teresa would never go for a man like _that_, especially not with the way she had reacted to him just moments before.

Both he and Teresa turned toward the desk, where the blonde stood, his arms against his chest sealed with a grin. He watched as the blonde's eyes averted from Teresa and her diminishing anger, to him and his statue-like stance. He wouldn't want to seem rude and so, he stood up straight. When you met a captain of a ship, you always showed them respect by standing straight and with good posture. However, he wasn't too sure if his posture was because of respect or because he was a bundle of nerves. The man only smiled wider.

"Lisbon, as much as I appreciate that you value my opinion," his tone dripped with sarcasm, "you don't need to introduce me to all of your suitors." Teresa tilted her head slightly and groaned. He guessed that she hadn't been amused by what he had said, but the blonde didn't give her a chance to respond. "The last one, with the tattoo, was more than I could take and frankly, how on earth will I break it to Walter that you're betrothed to another man?" The blonde finished with a chuckle.

He continued to stand there until one of them felt like having a round of introductions, but interrupting, what looked like a bickering match, would not be one of the better ideas. He watched as Teresa motioned her hand towards him and she rapidly changed the subject and tone of the room.

"Craig O'Laughlin, this is the insufferable and annoying Captain Patrick Jane." He saw her throw Patrick a smirk and he responded with a shake of his head and scrunch of his nose. In response to the introduction, he nodded towards Patrick for acknowledgement purposes. He hadn't quite figured out what to make of Captain Patrick Jane and decided that he would base his judgment, if he could, on how he treated Teresa. Teresa had been the one to give him this opportunity and if others didn't respect her as much as he already did, then they weren't worth his time.

He heard Patrick scoff at the introduction that Teresa had given him. "Thank you Lisbon, for giving me yet another name I won't remember." He walked around his desk and sized him up and down. He felt the sweat, once again, pool at the back of his neck and he had a yearning to flee from the room, but he knew that he shouldn't even attempt it. He side-eyed Teresa who gave him a reassuring smile, which quickly faded into frustration because of the silence that overwhelmed the room.

He heard her reprimand the Captain. "Jane, stop making the newcomers nervous with your silence. Say what is on your mind, you always do anyway." He felt his eyes go wide at how informal she had been with her captain. Unless you had ranking upon a ship, you would always use the title when speaking with the captain of a vessel. Instead, she had been informal with him and had used his last name - Jane. It was strange since he had always been taught to have manners and edict. He knew he was going to have to get used to the informalities upon the Scarlet Oasis and that would take some time. He had lived in high society for so long that he had forgotten that it was acceptable, on occasion, to be informal with others. However, he still found it rude that a woman could be _that_ informal with someone with a pristine position. He heard the Patrick's voice as he spoke to Lisbon.

"My dearest first mate, it's my job as captain to intimidate the newcomers. How else will they know who is in charge around here?" He saw as Patrick gave Teresa a sly smile and tilted his head. He felt the sweat that had been dripping down his neck soak into his shirt. Teresa being the first mate upon the Scarlet Oasis explained how she had been able to pick him up out of a bar, talk to her captain in such an informal manner, and it also explained why no one leered, aside from Walter, at her when they had come on board just moments before. He knew then and there that he would have to be respectful towards Teresa at all times, especially if he wanted to impress her later on down the line. For now though, he focused on just being accepted into the crew by Teresa and the picky Captain Patrick Jane.

"Jane," Teresa shot back at the grinning captain. The captain never did seem to take the ever-growing off of his face, "you seem to forget that I run this ship." His eyes widened at the accusation she had made towards the captain. Title or no title, the first mate had no right to accuse the captain of not being able to run his own ship. Sure, captains could put all the duties upon the first mate, but that would be wrong and lazy, on the captain's part. He wondered; if what Teresa said was true then why would Patrick Jane be the captain of the Scarlet Oasis? What was his motive, if any at all?

Teresa's enraged tone filled the room once again. "The only reason I'm even here is to see if you approve of the newcomer or do I need to go back out into the blazing sun?" He watched as Teresa stood with her head held high, one hand ready to go for her sword, and her toned legs spread apart slightly. She finished her rant and stared down the daydreaming captain.

He waved her off and turned his head towards his desk, as if he didn't care too much about the decision he had to make. "Meh," the captain responded, "put him out on deck for a couple of days, see how he does, and give him his first assignment when you feel he's ready." He saw Teresa nod her head and then give the captain an inquisitive look. They both waited for him to continue on with his orders, but it never came, and the captain slumped back into his desk chair and looked at the map that was in front of him. Craig noticed how focused the captain was and how he hadn't even looked up when Teresa had shut the door behind them.

He and Teresa both briefly glanced at each other and the first mate could only shake her head and cross her arms. He guessed that she had become frustrated because of her captain's vague orders. He hadn't given him or Teresa much of an answer about whether he was apart of the crew, but by the way Teresa looked, he had made it. He wanted to ask her about why the captain hadn't put him to a test, but he figured that him staying atop the deck for a couple of days was his test. It would be after those first few days that he would be evaluated by Teresa and the captain.

He followed Teresa back through the crew's quarters, the kitchen, and down a long hallway. He assumed that once he met all the officers he would be given a proper tour of the ship and then, maybe, he could do a bit of exploring on his own. Granted, with the work that he would be assigned, he wasn't too sure if he would ever have the time to do that, but he knew that even pirates had some down time.

The high afternoon sun hit at his eyes and he proceeded to squint at the glare of the sun's rays. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he stayed right on Teresa's heels until they were both atop the helm, with the two other men, who he had first assumed were the captain and first mate. Teresa cleared her throat to get the men's attention. One they heard her, he watched as they lifted their heads to look at Teresa and then, the taller brunette, stared in his direction – unblinking.

He tried to spot what the two men had been looking at, but as far as he could tell it was yet another map. He had no idea where the crew had planned on going, but he knew that it wasn't his place to ask any question now. If they wanted him to know they would have told him when he had arrived on the ship, but for now, he would keep to himself until they were ready.

He watched as Teresa motioned her hand out towards him. "Officers Rigsby and Cho, I would like you to meet the newcomer – Craig O'Laughlin." He nodded in their general directions. He presumed the one who acknowledged his presence had been Cho, since the taller brunette, who he assumed was Rigsby, continued to glare at him. He gave a gentle smile and Rigsby just turned his head away. He wondered what he had done to bother the man so much. He had only been friendly; he thought that maybe he just wasn't too welcoming to newcomers, which he understood. He hoped that Rigsby, once he got to know him, would become a friend.

He noticed that Cho had gone back to what he was doing, while Rigsby stepped closer to his first mate. His hand itched to grab his sword, but he knew that it wasn't his place to start a fight, especially when he was new to the crew.

He heard Rigsby's rough voice. "Boss, are you sure it's not too soon to bring on another member? I mean we just lost -. " Teresa hushed the officer before he could finish his sentence and proceeded to glare. She, then, straightened out her shoulders and looked the officer straight in the eyes.

"Are you questioning my ability to make decisions _Officer _Rigsby?" Her tone was harsh and unloving. He felt like he was watching a mother reprimand her child after he or she had misbehaved. He resisted the urge to smirk at the remark that Teresa had given her officer because he knew how that would look. He had to show respect for all the officers of the crew and that included Rigsby, even though he was much more of a fool than anything else.

"No, ma'am." Rigsby responded hastily and then turned on his heels to go back towards Cho and what they had been doing, but not before Teresa grabbed him by his right shoulder. She turned him back around and stared at him again.

"I wasn't done, _Officer _Rigsby," she scorned through her teeth. It seemed that everyone, aside from himself, had put Teresa on edge and he felt bad for her. "I want you three to get acquainted with each other." She glanced back at Rigsby and continued on with her orders. "Officer Rigsby, you shall show him the ropes and give him a formal tour. The captain and I have other matters to attend to." With that she turned away on the heels of her leather boots and walked down the small flight of wooden stairs.

He glanced over at his new crew member and shook his head, mainly at Officer Rigsby. Why couldn't he trust the first mate's judgment? Had she done something to betray his trust or was he just being stubborn? He hoped that it was the latter and that they would all move on from this awkward situation Rigsby had put them into.

He heard Cho's voice and it rung in his ears and turned his head to glance at him. "Welcome to the Scarlet Oasis. It's like a nursery school around here."


End file.
